Give Me Your Name
by sexy.uesugi.shuichi
Summary: Love can be an unpredictable thing sometimes, but what happens when two of the most unlikely people come across it in the most gruesome of scenarios? Will they fall with grace, or will it tear them asunder? Certainly love is never wrong, and given the opportunity to grow, heaven nor hell can destroy it. Vampire deathfic with a twist. Yaoi. R


Give Me Your Name

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Rated M for mature. RiSo

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and it's corresponding characters belong to Square Enix. I do not own it.

_Italics – _Sora's thoughts or flashback

Regular- Normal Narration

A/N: Alright, so here's my first shot at writing again after an extremely long hiatus. Please excuse any mistakes you may find, as this is the unedited and original version of this story. There are four chapters to this story and depending on how well it is received, an epilogue will finish it up. I ask kindly that you review and let me know how I'm doing. After a certain number of reviews, I will post the next chapter.

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Chapter 1

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"I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the descent of the Holy Spirit, by the coming of our Lord for judgment, that you tell me by some sign your name. I command you, moreover, to obey me to the letter, I who am a minister of God despite my unworthiness; nor shall you be emboldened to harm in any way a creature of God, or the bystanders, or any of their possessions."

_The soul was an unfathomably fragile thing._

"Give me your name!"

_Even so, it persevered through war, famine, and death. The soul was only a small figment of a much larger scheme, but it defined everything about its host._

"I demand you, foul creature of the night! Give! Me! Your! Name!"

_In an endless cycle, it carried on from one lifetime to the next. In a precarious balance, it was either borne of darkness, or of light. No two were ever exactly alike, but they all held one distinct characteristic. Every soul was capable of kindness, even the darkest and most corrupt._

Terra's cold voice echoed off the stalactite walls like an avalanche, the candle sconces flickering and giving off a paltry glow, their small flames casting more shadows about the room than light. At his back, his four sons were clad in religious cassocks, standing like silent sentinels with their young hands clasped together and their heads bowed in silent prayer.

"Holy Lord, almighty Father, everlasting God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who once and for all consigned that fallen and apostate tyrant to the flames of hell, who sent your only-begotten Son into the world to crush that roaring lion; hasten to our call for help and snatch from ruination and from the clutches of the noonday devil this demon made in your image and likeness."

The creature before them did not stir an inch. His breathing was calm as if he were asleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only sign that the dead lived at all. Sitting with his knees bent and parted, only the tattered remains of his shirt separated his cool skin from the damp, uneven wall he was chained to. With his arms hanging in suspension, he could not move far from his spot even if he put forth the effort, nor could he remove the blindfold from over his eyes.

"I command you again, demon, to give me your name so that I may cast out your wicked soul and free you from the torment the devil has placed upon you. Give me your name. Give your name to the Holy Spirit so that you may be delivered from sin by his forgiving hand."

Sora, Vinatis, Roxas, and Ventus all lifted their gaze, focusing on their father's back as he knelt before the creature, brandishing a cross. They prayed in unison, clutching their Bibles to their chest in apprehension. "May the blessing of almighty God, Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit, come upon you and remain with you forever. Amen."

Terra palmed his cross, muttering the same prayer, and pushed sweaty silver bangs back from the immortal's forehead. He pressed the tool to his bare brow and the creature came alive with pain as the silver seared his flesh. He struggled against his restraints and shook his head violently to dislodge the others' hand.

"I do not need your prayers, Priest!" Finally he spoke, his voice thick and broken from thirst and disuse, but no less menacing, and the four boys took a small step back. A pair of dried and cracked lips parted, peeling back to reveal four elongated canines, dripping with saliva that glistened white in the dim lighting. "By all that is Holy, you can go fuck yourself!" He snarled, his chains rattling ominously against the wall as he shook with rage.

Nosferatu. Parasitic couriers of death and the unholiest of all the Devil's dark creations, they roamed the planet since before the religious texts even existed. They plagued mankind from the shadows of the night, feasting on the blood of the innocent for the sole purpose of growing stronger and living longer. Most that the Church came across were impure, mindless abominations that were born human, then turned into the undead, some against their will, others not, by the potent blood of a vampire. Already weak, and ruled by their hunger, they were easy to dispose of.

Once every century or so, though, a pureblood would be dropped into the Church's lap and it was the duty of the Church to properly dispose of said creature. In order to do that, the Ordaining Priest would need a name to call it, and once a name was given, the Priest could exorcise the Vampire's undead soul by staking him trough the center of its chest. The stake served to pin the Vampire's soul in its body as it was burned, and never again would it be able to manifest in the living world, instead being sent back to hell with its corporeal form.

This particular pureblood was the first Terra encountered in his lifetime, but he listened closely to the stories told by more seasoned Ordains, and knew what signs to look for. Purebloods held very little pigmentation. Their skin was deathly white and marble cold. Superficial cuts and scrapes did not make them bleed; one had to cut deeper or pierce either the stomach or the heart to get any substantial blood flow out of them. Their hair color varied by age; while young, their hair was anywhere from ashen gray to light silver, and as they aged, it gradually grew lighter and lighter. The most prominent difference, though, was the fangs, as only purebloods had four instead of two. The top two were long and needle sharp, used specifically for piercing through flesh and carotid arteries. The two bottom fangs were merely used as anchors, only long enough to break through skin and hook into muscle, ensuring that their prey never escaped without a gaping hole in their throat.

The silver haired creature had been under Terra's watch for almost two months. And regardless of how painful the torture, he would not give up his name. He would endure starvation and thirst, beatings and negligence, and still he was as strong as ten men, and as resilient as Lucifer himself. In his eyes, he held the power of corruption and darkness, evil and sin, and to shield themselves from its effects, they were forced to blindfold him. His silver hair had yet to lose its luster and subtly defined muscles were only starting to deteriorate from lack of nutrition and movement. Terra took extra precaution when approaching the vampire at all times. Even a humble servant of God was not immune to the catastrophe that would occur if he was careless.

"Our Father who are in heaven, hallowed be thy name;" Terra prayed as he motioned Vinatis and Ventus forward," thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation," Standing, Terra towered over the vampire as two of his sons approached cautiously, the ebony haired youth holding on tightly to an iron rod four feet long and an inch and a half in diameter. "But deliver us from evil." They chanted together. Roxas grabbed one end of the bar when his father stepped away, his palms sweaty. Vinatis was much more calm, yellow eyes glancing over at his brother, a silent signal. With a small nod, the boys moved forward. Terra came up between them, surgical steel glinting in what little candle light reached that side of the room and pried the pureblood's jaws open with a strong hand.

The Vampire's reaction was immediate. Powerful legs thrashed and kicked out as the cold piece of metal passed the front row of his teeth, the two youths pushing with all their might to keep the silver haired creature's head pinned back against the wall, the rod biting into the corners of his mouth and exposing his fangs like a rattlesnakes'. He struggled with everything he could muster, biting into the bar in hopes that it would snap like glass under the pressure of his jaws, but it was unfeeling and unwavering in its solidity.

Terra took the dental forceps firmly in his hand, the cool metal tool clicking against the immortal's teeth as he tried to line them up with the first canine while the vampire twisted and bucked. After several attempts, he finally hit his mark and the nose of the pliers closed around the tooth. The process was not quick. Instead, Terra took his time slowly twisting and pulling at the tooth, inflicting as much pain as he possibly could.

Pure agony exploded through the vampire's mouth, radiating outward in the form of an inhuman scream, like a choir burning at the stake. So many different pitches falling from one mouth in a deafening shriek had the two remaining boys covering their ears, desperately trying to mute the noise. The brunet boy turned away, doubling over and heaving the contents of his stomach onto the floor. No one went to his aid, and as the first fang separated from the vampire's bleeding mouth, Terra's voice filled the ringing silence that followed. "Give me your name!" The smell of vomit and blood permeated the stagnant air, turning it acidic and thick. The creature panted heavily, his breaths wheezing past already coagulating crimson fluid coating his tongue and the back of his throat, making it impossible to swallow. No more words were exchanged and the Priest repeated the process, locking the pliers onto the second top fang and twisting, bending, and pulling until the tooth came free.

The silverette fought weakly, his strength sapped from resisting and delirious from pain. From beneath the blindfold, twin trails of red streaked down his cheeks to mingle with the blood smearing his lips and jaw. When the pliers did not return, the Vampire settled down, relief flowing through him when the rod was extracted. There was silence all around him, but he could detect every heartbeat in the room with him. One was calm, three were slightly elevated, and the last was beating wildly. Which belonged to who, he couldn't say, he'd never laid eyes on any of them, but what struck him as odd was that the erratic heart beat in sync with his own.

"Pray to your God, Priest. He will not give you my name and nor will I." The vampire spat wearily, his shoulders slumping and his head lulling forward as he danced on the edges of unconsciousness. It was a welcome reprieve when the world around him slipped away and he was pulled into the loving arms of darkness.

Terra sighed in frustration. This demon was mocking him. He was mocking the Church and all that it stood for. It was infuriating, but he reminded himself that he had to remain calm in the face of evil. Turning, he locked his eyes on his youngest boy, and with a fierce glower, he motioned all of them out of the room. Nothing more could be done at the time. The room was left in disarray as the door was shut behind them, leaving the vampire to sleep.

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Vinatis, the oldest of the four sons, pushed rudely past his youngest brother, nearly knocking him off his feet in order to catch up with their father. Sora self consciously rubbed at his shoulder and fell back, trailing after the two blonde twins, Ventus and Roxas. Not a word was spoken between them as they walked through the corridor below the Church, but a sigh of relief left all of them when they emerged through a door at the top of a set of stairs and they were encased in sunlight once more.

Sora knew he was in trouble. Once again, he'd cowered from the intensity of that Vampire's power. What would follow would be a long lecture from his father, several hours of prayer, and relentless torment from his siblings. Why couldn't be be more like them? Why was it that he couldn't face demons with bravery and conviction like his brothers could? They'd all been brought up the same, but he was different. If God had not intended him to follow in his father's footsteps, then why was he here? Why was he forced to endure such suffering? Not a lick of it was his own, but every time he stepped into that chamber with his family to exorcise another demon, it might as well have been.

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_He'd finished his prayers nearly an hour ago, and his brothers were already tucked safely into their beds. There was a restlessness about him that night that simply would not allow him to sleep. Bleary eyed and inhibited by the darkness that cloaked the walls of the hallways, Sora made the long trek from his bedroom to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water and sipping at it slowly as he took in his surroundings. _

_He grew up in the Church, and even after fifteen years, it still left him feeling disorientated. Every room was spacious and uncluttered, but it felt claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on him. The stained glass windows cast ghosts upon the floors and the dark wood doors felt like endless black voids sucking him in with the gentle pull of unexplainable gravity. All in all, Sora thought the place was downright creepy at night._

_A cold chill on the back of his neck brought the brunet out of his silent musings and he poured out the rest of his water, placing the empty glass on the counter next to the sink. Adrenalin steadily began to seep into his veins as the shadows around the room shifted and he hastily made his retreat, intending to run back to his room that he shared with his brothers and crawl under the covers where it was safe, but a noise from down the hall stopped him in his tracks._

_The last door opened up into the cathedral-like chapel, a vast room filled with row after row of polished, cushioned pews that on Sundays and Wednesdays would be filled to capacity with avid churchgoers, ready to take in the word of God and unleash the burdens of their everyday lives. At ten at night on a Thursday, though, it should have been deserted._

_Mustering up what little courage he had left, Sora tiptoed down the hall and cracked the door open, peering out into the well lit area. The seats were empty, as was the front, only the looming presence of the large cross behind the altar was visible through the white sheer curtains drawn in front of it. He heard the noise again and frowned when he realized that it was coming from the other side of the monstrous double doors that, when open, welcomed the public inside._

_He shrank back when they slowly parted, moonlight that drowned out the gentle and soothing glow of the candles invaded the chapel and four figures passed over the threshold. Chains rattled behind them as they towed something behind them. They wore dark cloaks, hoods drawn up over their heads that wouldn't reveal their faces to the curious eyes of young boy up long past his bedtime, and at their side, Sora's father walked stiffly, his Bible tucked under his arm. Never before had Sora seen his father so... stricken. The figures carried on, dragging their cargo towards the door on the opposite side of where Sora stood, and in the faint light, the brunet could barely make out the symbol on their backs. He realized with an internal gasp, a small hand coming up to cover his mouth in fear that it would escape him, that those men in the dark coats were hunters._

_Blue eyes widened in shock and fear as what they were dragging behind them finally came into view. It was a boy; a young, silver haired boy who couldn't have been much older than him. He was shackled at the ankles and by the look of his clothing, he'd been drug through the streets like a Holocaust corpse all the way to the church. That smooth marbled skin was red and raw with abrasions that stood out starkly from the boy's natural palor. He lay on the thin carpeted floor unmoving and Sora wondered if he was already dead, not even the boy's breathing could be detected. His eyes were closed, and his face was so peaceful and serene... Sora wanted to cry out that there had been a mistake. He was just a boy! There was no way he could be what they thought he was! It simply wasn't possible!_

_He was just a boy!_

_...And he was beautiful._

_That night, Sora's faith in God wavered._

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"Sora!"

The brunet jumped in surprise, pulled from his recollections of that fateful night two months ago by the sound of his father's booming voice. The man was poised at the entrance of his study, his large hand, caked with drying blood, resting on the door knob.

"Y-yes, father?" Sora managed to say.

"I will see you in my study now." Terra snapped impatiently and disappeared through the doorway, leaving it open for him to follow. Sora shrank under the disapproving stares of his three older brothers, each one looking upon him with some degree of disapproval and scorn. To escape those cruel and unforgiving eyes, he slipped quietly into the room, his head lowered as he shut the door behind him. Inside, Terra stood at the window, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the world.

"Again, your actions disgrace me. You disgrace me and you disgrace God with your cowardice!" Terra seethed, turning to pin his son with a glare.

"Forgive me, father." Sora hastily replied, bowing in submission to his father's wrath. "I didn't mean-"

"Do you pity him!" The priest bellowed. "Do not pity the beast, for he has none for you! Do you think we do this to be cruel!"

_Yes._

"We do this out of necessity! He is a creature born of the devil's flesh! He is vile and he is evil. It is our duty to eradicate him and all like him!"

Sora felt tears sting the back of his eyes and his lower lip trembled as he fought them back. He pressed his back against the door, willing it to swallow him up and free him from his insecurities. "Father, I fear I am not able to pursue this life-"

"Silence! I will not hear another word! You will eat, go to confession with your brothers, and then clean up your mess by yourself!" In his anger, Terra didn't quite comprehend the severity of his punishment until it was too late. Sora's ocean blue eyes widened in terror and his knees threatened to give out on him. Even so, the man did not retract his words, waving the boy away with his hand before turning back to his window.

Shakily, Sora opened the door and spilled out into the hall, only to see his brothers still standing there with knowing smirks on their faces. They had heard everything and yet they laughed at him. They snickered behind their hands as tears finally slipped past Sora's thick lashes and made their solemn trek down his flushed cheeks. Instead of embracing him and reassuring him that everything would be alright, they turned on their heels and walked away as if the brunet had only been lightly scorned for snatching a cookie before meal time.

Hurt and angry, Sora ran the other way, not stopping until he reached the chapel. A few stragglers from morning mass looked up from their prayers from where they sat hunched over in the pews at the commotion the young man made upon entering, but they quickly turned a blind eye to his suffering just as his brothers had.

Bitterness enveloped Sora as he composed himself, straightening his robes and making a beeline for the closest available confessional, quietly pulling the door closed and locking himself inside the small, closet-like space. He lowered himself onto his knees, his elbows resting on the hard wooden surface of the booth and clasped his hands together in front of his face, his fingers quickly turning white from how hard he clenched them. For hours he prayed. He prayed for his late mother, his cold and distant father, and his heartless brothers. Most of all, he prayed for a sign that all of his suffering was not in vain. He longed for his purpose to be made clear to him. He prayed for God to show him the way.


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